Owen’s been on a bit of a pirate kick lately. Two weeks ago, his educator planned a whole week of pirate-themed activities. Owen even came home with some “booty” (chocolate coins and plastic jewels).
Last week, we took a pirate book out from the library:
It’s a fun one. It suggests that if you want to be a pirate, you should wrap up some belongings in a spotty hanky and make your way to the nearest port, where you could try to apprentice yourself as a cabin boy or girl. On the next page, one of the instructions for being a pirate was to be very wicked, especially to cabin boys and cabin girls. One of the upsides of this book was a gruesome image of a pirate afflicted with scurvy. Since then, Owen has been very anxious to eat his fruits and vegetables, to ward off scurvy. I get a bit too much pleasure watching Owen eat his vegetables and ask me “Is that enough? Will I get scurvy now?”
Anyway, the following anecdote isn’t nearly as good without the image, but yesterday we were in Canadian Tire (shopping for a ladder) and we walked by a display of motor oil. I am pretty sure it was Pennzoil (in a yellow container). Prominently displayed on every bottle was a hazard symbol indicating poison (the skull and crossbones). Oddly, every picture of motor oil on the internet has the skull airbrushed off…You know, in case someone was turned off buying the stuff by knowing it was dangerous?
Anyway, as we walked by the display, Owen said, brightly:
“Look Mummy, Pirate Mustard!”